


Waters Where We Swim

by tiger9in1



Series: Malakardi [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger9in1/pseuds/tiger9in1
Summary: This chapter is a prequel to "Shadows of the Past". It is set much further back in time on Malakardi's home world. It is an original story featuring original characters.
Series: Malakardi [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824058
Comments: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a prequel to "Shadows of the Past". It is set much further back in time on Malakardi's home world. It is an original story featuring original characters.

The office was larger than I expected. Not to mention more colorful. I knew Directors were treated well, but I’d never seen any office on Thetis look as lavish, or as beautiful. Of course, everything about the Rehab Center was brand-new, from the crystal-glass dome to the polished marble floors. But the Director’s office was breathtaking. The metallic walls were coated in fine synthetic glaze, making rainbow colors flow across it like an oil slick, or a soap bubble. Overhead, a cluster of small golden plates dangled from a chandelier encrusted with diamonds. I couldn’t help gaping at it. Such luxury would have been stunning even on Earth. But here, on a world where the largest building was a three-story log cabin? It was unheard of.  
I moved about from one wall to the other, admiring the iridescence. My movement stirred the golden disks, which sent sparkles of light all over the room.  
“Look at me, human!”  
Jolted out of my stupor, I shook my head quickly. I needed to remember why I was here. Taking a deep breath, I moved forward toward the Director’s desk. She sat behind it, a tall thin reptilian body covered in short, grey fur. I kept my eyes on the desk, noting the smooth black wood and ornate carving before meeting her eye.  
And what an eye it was. All Halim have large, multifaceted eyes, just like cut gems. The Directors’ were the deep blue of fine sapphires. She turned her head so one eye focused squarely on me. Abruptly a black membrane swept across it, gone the next second. A danger sign among Halim.  
“Are you quite finished?” she asked coldly.  
I hung my head. “Sorry,” I mumbled in Basic. Then I remembered to whom I was speaking. “I am deeply sorry, most honored one,” I added in Halim. The Director bobbed her head slightly, but the membrane flicked across her eye again. What had I done wrong this time?  
The Director raised a clawed hand and gestured the chair in front of the desk. I took a seat warily. Silence fell. Moments passed, and still she did not speak.  
At last, I couldn’t stand it. “Please, Director Talli…”  
“‘Ra Talli,” she corrected me. Another eye flicker.  
“…’Ra Talli,” I continued. “I would like to make a formal request.”  
“What is it you want?”  
“I ask humbly for the release of my friend, Malakardi.”  
“Release?” Director ‘Ra Talli’s nostrils flared. “For the half-breed? Absolutely out of the question.”  
“May I see her, then?” I blurted out. Under ‘Ra Talli’s stern gaze, I backtracked a little. “I mean, may I please be allowed to see her? Just for a few minutes.”  
‘Ra Talli blinked again, and her skin flushed a deep green. She was becoming more and more livid, and nothing I said seemed to help. Of course! What I said! No wonder I was getting everything wrong. I was speaking Middle Halim. That’s only used between equals, or to someone inferior. Speaking to superiors requires High Halim, the formal language. The Thetis Halim didn’t care much, but newcomers could be real sticklers for it. But I hadn’t learned High Halim. It didn’t seem necessary last year, especially with Middle Halim to learn first.

“Please forgive this young human,” I said, using my best honorifics. “She has not yet studied your formal language, and deeply regrets this omission.”  
‘Ra Talli nodded, and smiled. I brightened inwardly. Maybe I could persuade her yet.  
“You see, honored one,” I said, using my best serious expression, “Malakardi’s my friend. I must be sure she’s receiving the best possible care.”  
A bare hint of a flicker passed over ‘Ra Talli’s eyes. “I hope you’re not insulting my clinic.”  
“Of course not, noble ‘Ra. I’m sure your clinic is doing a marvelous job. I simply wish to see it with my own eyes.”  
‘Ra Talli nodded. She looked thoughtful, though I wasn’t sure. Moments passed, then minutes. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a second, then spoke. “We haven’t made as much progress as I hoped. Your… friend is the most uncooperative patient I’ve ever seen.”  
“How so?” I asked.  
“She refuses to obey even the simplest instructions. She insults me at every possible opportunity. And she attacks everyone who enters her quarters. Only yesterday one of my guards needed eleven stitches.” ‘Ra Talli blinked her eyes at the memory. She huffed and craned her head. One eye held my gaze directly. “Frankly, she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”  
“Maybe I can help,” I murmured. I widened my eyes, looking as innocent as I could. “This humble human is nowhere near the might of an exalted ‘Ra, but perhaps she might assist her in some small way.”  
“What do you propose?” asked ‘Ra Talli.  
“Merely to allow this simple human to relieve your burden of an uncooperative client by taking it upon myself. I would be happy to do this small favor to relieve you of trouble.”  
‘Ra Talli stared at me in complete silence for a full minute. I stared back, trying to maintain my composure. She sputtered and snorted, flushing olive green. Then she chuckled, and finally laughed. It was a big, belly-booming laugh that shook the whole room. The plates rattled and crashed together. Even the wall’s colors seemed to dive for cover. I cringed, but I stood my ground.  
At last, her laugh subsided. ‘Ra Talli brushed a glistening tear from each eye. “Very clever, human, but your sweetened words won’t work. Such audacity!” she exclaimed, shaking her head, “I’ve never seen the like!” She turned back to me. She didn’t seem angry, since her eyes weren’t blinking. She craned her neck toward me and tilted her head. X-ray machines didn’t make me feel as vulnerable as those pulsing sapphires did. I thought they were reading my mind.  
‘Ra Talli pulled her head back. She smiled at me, and nodded with satisfaction. “You’re a complex creature, human.” She glanced at the paper sheet on her desk. “It’s Inira, isn’t it? Inira Prather-Li.” I nodded.  
“Well, Inira, it’s a shame you were not born Halim. Take a course in High Halim immediately.” Her smile abruptly faded. “But our business here is done. I’d say it’s time to leave. Don’t you agree?” The smile returned, but colder than her eyes.  
“No,” I said, standing up. “You still haven’t shown me Malakardi.”  
“I’m too busy today,” answered ‘Ra Talli, pushing two yellow button on the console on her desk. “Come back tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can do.” The thump of heavy feet vibrated through my shoes. “My guards will see you out.”  
I turned around. The back wall panel had become transparent as glass. Outside stood two Halim guards, both larger and more muscled than ‘Ra Talli. The panel slid, and they entered the room. Standing on either side of me, my head barely reached their waists. “Sulan, Plaxi, show our visitor to the entrance.”  
“Fine, I will leave,” I snarled, turning to ‘Ra Talli. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. You’ll never be rid of me.”  
‘Ra Talli raised her hand. I gasped as one of the guards seized my arm. He dragged me to the door. “Let go!” I shouted, “I’m leaving anyway.” He loosened his grip, but neither guard left my side until I was safely out the door. Out of sight, out of mind. Or so they thought.


	2. Chapter 2

It took two more times of being escorted by the guards before they didn’t bother to let me in anymore. They stood just beyond the glass of the double front doors, watching me with their arms crossed and expressions I couldn’t read. It was always the same two guards, I noted with amusement. The one who grabbed me, who I found out later was named Sulan, bore five gash marks on the side of his face. I wondered if Malakardi had made them, and admired her strength if she had. Sulan’s partner, Plaxi, stood a few inches taller and wasn’t as stocky. They made quite a pair. It must have annoyed ‘Ra Talli that valuable personnel had to be wasted on me.  
But waiting on the porch tried my resolve as well. I sat there for five hours at a time, day after day. It provided a lot of time to reflect. One cloudy day, I was watching the guards as usual when the sun peeked through for a moment or two. During that time, I saw myself as I was; a girl of fourteen, small and slight, with long black hair and slanted blue eyes. I thought, what are you really doing here, Inira? Am I really doing any service to Malakardi by being here? I hadn’t spoken to her for ten months, after all. I’d only known her for five months before that. Could I truly call her my friend anymore? And how well can you really know a person who won’t talk about her past?  
What kept me there was guilt, a terrible guilt that ate me away inside, from the base of my gut to the back of my throat. I knew Malakardi was different. I knew she was lonely, bullied, in pain. And what had I done? Nothing.  
The next time I saw my reflection, I swallowed and resolved never to budge. I had ruined Malakardi’s life. The least I could do was ruin mine, until I could make things right.  
***  
One afternoon a few weeks later, I sat as usual on the marble steps, listening to a set of language tapes. Silar, a Halim co-worker of my mom, agreed to supplement the school’s High Halim tapes with a set of her own, made especially for me. Now I could recognize words and speech patterns, and learned an entirely different definition of the word ‘eat’.  
“M’thal wrapped his legs around Tara’s, crying, ‘Eat me! Taste my sweetness, I …”  
Over the tape I heard the door slide open behind me. I switched off the tape and jumped to my feet, startled. Sulan stood there. His earlier gashes had healed, but he had several new ones, including one across his eye. Plaxi’s head appeared over his shoulder.  
“’Ra Talli wants to see you,” he said.   
I nodded. “Let’s go.”  
This time, I took the lead while they walked side by side behind me. I heard them murmuring to themselves in High Halim. I didn’t understand the guards completely, but I caught a few phrases here and there.  
“…she says ... doesn’t know...”  
“Didn’t have to … leave her…”  
“..days and days…”  
“If you ask me…”  
“Quiet!”  
And here was ‘Ra Talli’s door. I smiled blankly at the guards and stepped in.  
It looked the same as before. I took a seat at the desk before ‘Ra Talli could open her mouth. She glared at me. I gazed back, as cheerfully as I could manage.  
“I have given your case considerable thought,” she said.  
“You have, ‘Ra? You flatter me.”  
“No games today, Inira.” She crossed her arms and rested them on the desk. “I have considered your first request, to see Malakardi. It is not unreasonable.”  
“Yes, ‘Ra.”  
“You want to check up on her, make sure she is well cared-for?”  
“Yes, ‘Ra.”  
“Very well. You may see her in a few minutes. But on one condition.” Her gaze was serious. “Once you have seen her, you will leave, immediately and voluntarily. After all,” she said, rising to her feet and circling behind me, “Our client must not be disturbed by excessive visits, even from friends.” She craned her neck. “Do we understand each other?”  
“Completely.” I was embarrassing her, and she knew it. The only cure was for me to leave freely, on a pretext that wouldn’t undermine her authority.  
“Do you agree?”  
I thought. This might be my only chance to see Malakardi. I could explain myself, offer to help. If she asked to see me again…  
“I’ll do it.”  
“Excellent.” ‘Ra Talli summoned the guards.   
In a moment, they arrived.  
“You called, ‘Ra?” asked Plaxi.  
“Yes,” said ‘Ra Talli. “You, Sulan, escort this young lady and I to Room 29-B.”  
“As you wish,” said Plaxi. She and ‘Ra Talli set off at a brisk trot down the hallway. I followed them, with Sulan bringing up the rear.   
It didn’t take long to reach Room 29-B. It was the final room at the end of a long, narrow corridor. Like the rest of the doors, this one had a small black keypad on the side of the wall, for security codes. With a nod from ‘Ra Talli, Plaxi typed a short series of numbers on the keypad. The door slid open.  
I peered inside. The room was darker than ink, but even so, I could see it was very small. It could barely serve as a closet, let alone a holding cell. “Where is she?” I asked.  
‘Ra Talli flicked a clear membrane across her eye. Not a danger-sign; this was the Halim equivalent of eye-rolling. She stepped in and punched a button toward the ceiling. With a soft hiss, the dark walls became transparent.  
I blinked. The room that greeted me was a Terran-style version of heaven. The walls, floor and ceiling were white, and covered in what appeared to be plush carpet. Small nodes in the ceiling bathed the room in yellow light, giving the room an unearthly glow. Straight ahead stood two armchairs and a low-lying table, both made of foam and covered in plush. Actually, the chairs marred this image of perfection, since someone with teeth and claws had ripped holes in all three. Chunks of foam and plush confetti had been arranged into neat little piles. The piles formed pyramids, circles, and other fantastic but clearly-planned shapes. I giggled as I saw one, barely an inch from the glass, which formed the words, “FUCK YOU.” In perfect High Halim, too.

‘Ra Talli glared at me. “Do you think this is funny?”  
“No ma’am…’Ra,” I caught myself just in time.  
“Good.” ‘Ra Talli pointed with one silver finger toward the far left corner of the room. “She’s over there.” Sure enough, a large white bed stood there, pressed against the wall. It seemed to be the only undamaged furniture in the room. Curled upon it rested a dark green, scaly figure.  
“Malakardi,” I whispered.  
‘Ra Talli nodded. “Now you have seen her. It’s time to go.” She gestured to Sulan.  
“Wait!” I said, as the guard stepped inside. “I want to speak to her.”  
“She’s in no condition to talk,” said ‘Ra Talli. “Besides, she’s violent, as I told you before. Just look at the chairs!”  
That’s only because she’s bored, I thought. Good lord, there’s nothing to do in this place! I glanced around the room. Except for the furniture, the room was completely bare. It still looked heavenly, but, as I considered spending days, possibly months, within these walls, it felt more like hell.  
“I can’t tell how she’s treated until I speak to her.” I said firmly. I gazed up at ‘Ra Talli’s face, trying to read it. I tried to look as piteous as possible. I thought a tear might improve my performance, but my eyes were dry. “Please, ‘Ra Talli. I may never get another chance.”  
‘Ra Talli snorted. “Very well. You have five minutes. Sulan, stand guard at the door. I’ll remain outside.”  
The transparent glass slid back. I stepped forward. My stomach fluttered. All my effort had gone to getting this visit. Now, I didn’t know what to say.  
A few more steps brought me to the bed. “Malakardi,” I whispered. My voice shook, echoing unnaturally in the silence. I put one hand on her scaly shoulder. As she stirred, I backed away. “Mal, wake up. It’s me. Inira.”  
Mal rolled over, then rose on all fours. She was thin and reptilian, just like ‘Ra Talli. She had the Halim body type. Same wedge-shaped head, long neck, curved claws, long thin legs, and long lizard tail. But green webbing stretched between her toes, and the eyes were no jeweled facets. They were large, round, orange balls. As I stepped back, they extended outward on long stalks. Mal blinked several times, still sodden with sleep. Then she saw me.  
“YOU!!!” she shouted, and leapt off the bed toward me. I froze.  
But Mal had misjudged the distance. She collapsed in a heap at my feet, writhing and shrieking. Her rear claws raked lines down my legs. I offered my hand to help her up, but she hissed and bit me. I barely had time to scream before Sulan rushed to my side. He held up a syringe and injected a pale yellow liquid into Mal’s neck. She gasped for breath, letting go of my hand. Sulan gestured to the door. I rushed for it, cradling my bleeding hand. It throbbed painfully.  
I looked back through the glass. Sulan let go of Mal. She half-ran, half-staggered to the other end of the room, making gurgling sounds. With a thud, she smacked into the wall and collapsed, a limp heap of scales and bones. Sulan gathered her up in his arms and carried her back, toward the bed. She was a tiny thing, a full foot shorter than me. She was barely as long as Sulan’s forearm. Gently he set her down, then returned to the door.  
I gazed up at him. He had a new cut, this one across his left cheek. I felt like I was seeing him for the first time. “Thank you,” I said.  
He nodded. “Stop at the nursing station. They’ll wash that bite.”  
‘Ra Talli didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She practically glowed with triumph. Her facets sparkled with concealed humor.  
“Where’s the nursing station?” I asked, trying to look calm.  
“Third door on your left. Sulan and Plaxi will show you out when you’re done.” And with that she left, back to her office.  
I didn’t protest this time. I’d clearly lost. I’d never see Mal again. I wasn’t even able to tell her how sorry I was.  
“I’m sorry, Malakardi,” I murmured. A tear, a real tear, stung my eye. “Sorry for everything.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was with a heavy heart that I showed up to my internship the following morning. Since I live in town, the Crystal Academy president made an arrangement with my mom that I work on campus during the four-month summer season. I’d mostly spent it arranging files at the Medical Center. Usually, I love it. Today, though, I couldn’t concentrate. I spent half an hour staring at a file for “Merill, Phoebe” before filing it under the W’s. My supervisor, a thin wiry young Halim named Ki’Mat, just stood off to the side and let me do it. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the gaze of one olive green eye.   
Finally, I sat down at the table and laid my head on my hands. I heard myself sigh.   
“Inira?” Ki’Mat’s voice sounded soft. I felt a hand lightly touch my shoulder. I looked up. “What is it, Inira?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”  
“No.” I said. I took a deep breath. “It’s my friend, Malakardi. Did you know her?”  
“The hybrid?” He seemed surprised. “Not except for her visits here. What about her?”  
“They’re keeping her at the Rehab Center. I guess they’re trying to help, but…” My voice broke. “Ki’Mat, it was awful in there! They keep her sedated, she lashes out at everyone, including me! I know I deserve it, but she doesn’t! I have to get her out of there, but she won’t talk to me, and they won’t let me go back…” I looked up at him. “What am I going to do?”  
He was silent for a moment. He looked around, then walked toward the door. He gestured to his office. “Follow me,” he said. I did.  
Ki’Mat’s office was considerably smaller than ‘Ra Talli’s had been. With space just slightly larger than the average broom closet, there was room for only one chair. Ki’Mat offered it to me and crouched, sphinx-style, on top of the desk.   
Though the room was small, it appeared to have a high ceiling. Row after row of shelves ringed the room, each crowded with a display of various tiny sculptures, from a copper wire kala-kala tree to a squatting Halim made of pewter. I would have called them knick-knacks, except that Ki’Mat had made them himself. Good craftsmanship is a sign of status among Halim males. On the shelf nearest to me, in a place of honor, sat two items. On the left sat a silver-framed portrait of Silar, Ki’Mat’s wife. Ki is a Halim title for married men. On the right of the shelf rested a red belt saying “Thirty-Five Years” in gold lettering. Ki’Mat was thirty-five years old, but to the Halim, that’s barely an adult. At the time he was born, it was unthinkable that any Halim man would have a job outside the home, particularly if he was married, and especially one that involved writing and speaking. But forty years ago, no one could have imagined meeting humans, and that had changed everything.   
I shook my head to clear it and glanced at Ki’Mat, half-afraid he would reprimand me. Instead, he smiled. “You like them?”   
“They’re lovely,” I said. Then my face fell. “Ki’Mat, we’ve got to get Malakardi out of there!”  
Ki’Mat shook his head. “We can’t. We have no authority over the Rehab Center.”  
“But we have to do something,” I said. “That place is completely wrong for her.”  
“I’m sure it is,” said Ki’Mat. He paused. “Inira, I was here when she came in. We did everything we could.”  
I know they did. But it was still a shock when I came across her file last month, when filing away reports of “Injuries”. There were two for her. The first one, dated the day after I last saw her, said, “Patient appears to have both arms shattered at the joints. Massive lacerations. Patient claimed to have fallen off the Med-Tech roof. Injuries more consistent with self-infliction.” In retrospect, I could imagine Malakardi jumping off the roof, her lithe body stretching to its fullest, her face numb with despair. The second one, a month later, was more serious. “Patient in critical condition. Massive hemorrhaging from laceration in the throat area.”  
I shuddered. I didn’t want to picture that. Even thinking the words gave me a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I never knew,” I said numbly. “I never knew how she felt, what she went through.” I should have, of course. The clues were there. I had simply ignored them.  
Ki’Mat sat up on his hind legs. He patted my arm in sympathy. “It wasn’t your fault, Inira. You couldn’t have known. No one did.”  
“I know.” I sighed. “I just wish I could do something now. Anything.”  
Ki’Mat became thoughtful again. Then, he smiled and leapt off the desk, nearly knocking me off my chair. “I’ve got it!” he said. He turned one green eye toward me. “You should see Kendara.”  
“Kendara? Who’s that?”  
Ki’Mat’s smile grew wider. “She’s the most famous Kaladi in the world. She was orphaned as a baby and raised among Halim and humans. She’s one of the founders of the Crystal Academy, you know. If anyone can reach Malakardi, she can.”  
“Where was she last year, when Mal needed her?”  
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I thought I heard she was gone, but not why.” He frowned. “I read her name somewhere recently. On…a flyer, I think. I should have it here somewhere.” He moved back to his desk and opened a drawer, tossing one paper after another onto the floor. “Aha! I found it.” His face aglow with triumph, he held up a small but brightly colored flyer. I caught a glimpse of a blue background and yellow letters, then he began to read it aloud.  
“World-Famous Professor Kendara of All-Clans will be returning to Crystal Academy’s campus this summer season. She will once again be teaching several classes, including Kaladi Language and Culture. Interested students may apply at her office (directions located on back) or by email …”  
“Is that her?” I asked, peering over his shoulder. Posed in front of a backdrop of ocean and sky sat a headshot of the strangest life-form I’d ever seen. She looked like a cross between a frog and a monkey. Dark green scaly skin, thin wisps of lighter hair down her back. A round face with a wide mouth, and criss-crossed with wrinkles. Several large white spots on her face, and what appeared to be a pouch beneath her throat. Her eyes, like Mal’s, sat on long stalks. Only their color was different, a pale yellow instead of orange.   
I was speechless. Did all Kaladis look like that? Though Mal resembled the Halim, it was clear where her other genes came from. Though they weren’t visible in the picture, I’d bet anything Kendara had webbed hands and feet, just as Mal did.  
“Yes, I’ve seen her before.” Ki’Mat scanned the date at the upper corner of the flyer. “By the looks of things, she returned to campus three days ago.”  
I felt a smile spread across my own face. “Thank you, Ki’Mat!” I said, giving him a hug. I snatched the flyer from his hand and charged out of his office and down the hall, happier than I’d been in weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

According to the flyer, Kendara’s office lay at the back of the Filmith building. Called Filly by students, Filmith Hall was a two-story log cabin typical of Thetis architecture. Of course, what it lacked in height, it made up for in volume. As it was the prime lecture hall on campus, I’d been inside many times. Still, without directions, I wouldn’t have recognized Kendara’s office at all.  
I circled Filly twice before I believed I had the right address. I stood in the vacant lot behind the hall, among the weeds and garbage, and regarded the structure in front of me. “Great,” I told myself, “It’s a shack.” And a shack it was, a one-story shack built of mud bricks and spare bits of wood. It didn’t even have windows. A small stream formed a moat around the small house, crossed by a thick plank in front of the door. I took a deep breath and crossed the moat. Considering its construction materials, I expected the house to wash away in the next rain. But I brushed a hand over the doorframe and to my surprise I felt a hard coating, almost like plastic. I knocked on the door.  
A low thrumming voice said, “Come in.” I ducked my head to avoid scraping the doorframe. I entered a dark circular space, surprisingly large. I blinked, trying to adjust to the dimmer light. Gradually, I saw the light came from a small oil lamp, seated on a large tree stump in the middle of the room. Kendara sat on a rug on the floor in front of the lamp, cross-legged in the lotus position like a Buddhist monk. When she saw me, she rose to her feet in one smooth motion.  
She looked exactly like her picture. Now I could see her round head rested on an equally round body. Sure enough, her hands and feet were webbed, with long supple fingers ending in claws. Her arms and legs looked thin, but muscular. While her whole body was covered with wrinkles, she stood tall and erect, seeming to glow with health. None of this startled me. But what did startle me was her size. She was tiny. Her head only came up to my chest. She couldn’t have been more than three feet tall. She peered up at me, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. To my shock, her eyes extended outward on long flexible stalks until they were eye-level with mine.  
I couldn’t look away. Those bright yellow orbs looked uncannily like Mal’s. Only their color told them apart. Their stalks waved back and forth, quivering slightly. I squirmed under their gaze.   
Suddenly, they withdrew back into Kendara’s skull. She looked up at me again, her jaw dropping slightly. Then she offered one webbed hand for me to shake. Numbly, I did.  
“What is your name, young one?” she asked. Her voice felt oddly comforting.  
“Inira Prather-Li. But Inira is fine.”  
“Inira Prather-Li.” Kendara seemed to stretch out the words in her mouth, rolling them as though she liked the taste. “I won’t forget. Names are too important to let the water carry them away.”  
“Ww-water?” I stammered.  
Kendara’s jaw dropped again, and her eye stalks withdrew a few inches. “Nothing is more important to a Kaladi than water. It surrounds us, it moves around us every day. Just as the clan does. In fact,” she cupped her hands to whisper, “To the Kaladi, Clan and Water are one.”  
I drew back a step, thoroughly confused and still a little frightened. It must have shown on my face, for Kendara cupped my left hand gently in both of hers.  
“Don’t be afraid,” she said soothingly. “Have a seat.” Her eye stalks directed me to the rug where she’d been sitting. “We don’t stand on ceremony here.”  
She cocked her head at me, and her jaw opened wider. Suddenly I laughed, realizing she had made a joke. She let out a low throaty chuckle herself.  
“That’s better,” she said. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’d smile if I could, but my kind can’t. We don’t have the right facial muscles.”  
“That’s all right,” I said, sitting down on the rug. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”  
“You haven’t. Just relax.” Kendara sat on the stump, crossing her legs again. “Why did you want to see me?”  
It came out in a rush. “My friend Malakardi’s in trouble. She was put in the Rehab Center. They’re holding her there like a prisoner.”  
Kendara’s eye stalks twitched. “Tell me everything. Start at the beginning.”  
So I did. “Mal and I met at the start of last year, fifteen months ago. We were excited when we compared Earth-Thetis calculations and discovered we were the same age. From then on we were the best of friends. We did everything together. I learned she was a Halim-Kaladi hybrid, and the only one in existence. I thought it was interesting, but no stranger than the Halim, or Thetis. I’d just arrived from off-world, and believe me, everything about Thetis looked weird.  
“But the Halim didn’t agree, not the new ones, anyway. Over time, they became more aggressive with Mal. Little things at first. Sometimes they shoved her in the hall. Once, one stepped on her feet right in front of me. But I never said a word. Was I afraid? Did I want their approval? I don’t know.   
“Then I met Sitanni, an upper-level student. We met in Engineering class, over a homework project. Mal wasn’t in that class and I began making friends with her on my own. She was an off-worlder, like me. She also grew up in a city, so she had to adjust to all the space and trees too. You have no idea how good that feels, to bond with someone like that. So we began to study together, and she introduced me to her friends. Some of them had picked on Malakardi. I never told Mal about them. I told myself she wouldn’t understand. Deep down, I knew they would never accept her. She kept asking me where I went, and I made one excuse after another.   
“Then the worst happened, a few months ago. I was talking with Sitanni, over another homework assignment. She was explaining it to me as I took notes. Behind her, I heard a series of shouts. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mal’s dark green shape thrown against the wall. Sitanni and I both turned to look. I recognized the girls from Sitanni’s clique. She nodded to them, and they walked away. For a moment, I gazed into Mal’s eyes. They were glazed with pain as she lay crumpled on the floor. But Sitanni faced me again and asked, ‘Where were we?’ Reluctantly, I returned to our notes. After she left a minute later, I looked for Mal, but she was gone. That was the last I saw of her for months. Now I know she made a suicide attempt the next day, and another a month later. Then, the Rehab Center.  
“So it’s all my fault,” I finished, fighting back tears. Kendara didn’t say anything.  
“She’s miserable, all because of me. We’ve got to get her out.”  
Kendara tilted her head, and her eye stalks, and regarded me. No trace of laughter in her now. “Why?”  
“Because she’s my friend.”  
She blinked slowly. “That’s what you humans call friendship? Does Malakardi think you’re her friend?”  
I felt a blush spread across my face. “No. She lashed out at me. At the Rehab Center.” I hung my head. “And I don’t blame her.”  
Kendara looked at me with a serious, impassive expression I couldn’t read. “Why did you come back? Why not walk away?”  
I took a deep breath. Then another one. “I just… I wanted to apologize. I know I was despicable. And…” I took another breath, “I know how it feels to be unwanted. And lonely. I should have tried to understand.”  
Kendara nodded. “You can still learn to understand. I’ve heard of Malakardi, though I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her. She was raised in a Kaladi clan, similar to mine.” She frowned. “Kaladi tend to keep to themselves. They tend to frighten people. Few people understand them, human or Halim. Even fewer want to. It’s no wonder others hate us.” Her eyes focused on me again. “If you want to learn more about your friend, I suggest you take my course. Kaladi Language and Culture. It’s another language, of course, but well worth the trouble. It starts tomorrow.”  
“Thank you,” I said, standing up and bowing to her. It seemed the right thing to do. “I’ll be there.”  
Kendara bowed back. “Good luck to you, Inira Prather-Li.”


	5. Chapter 5

I arrived at Kaladi Language and Culture class at 0900, precisely on time. It was held in Filly Hall, as so many introductory classes were. There were a few weeks of the summer season left, so starting a class now should have surprised me, but it didn’t. Summer classes were often shorter than normal.   
I was surprised, however, to find the room nearly empty. Even Kendara wasn’t here yet. The only occupied seat was a few rows from the front. Seated there, upon a low-lying couch with a digi-pad in front of him, was a Halim. He looked familiar. He turned around and grinned at me, and I grinned back when I recognized Ki’Mat. He gestured for me to take the seat next to him. It too was a couch, designed more for Halim anatomy than mine, but with the click of a few buttons it folded into a recliner. Really, it was much more comfortable than a normal desk.   
“Is anyone else coming?” I asked him, peering around in surprise. Ki’Mat had just opened his mouth when the door opened and Kendara herself strode in. She moved oddly, with a rolling gait. Her eyes bobbed on their stalks, surveying the whole of the room within seconds.  
“Greetings, Ki’Mat and Inira,” she said, bowing to us from the top of the podium. We bobbed our heads in return. “I am glad you could come.” As if she read my mind, she added, “There is one more student on my list. If she doesn’t come, we’ll start without her.” She began fiddling with the 3-D holographic projector.  
Ki’Mat turned to me. “Silar sends her greetings.”  
I smiled again. “Tell her thanks for the tapes. They were very educational.” Ki’Mat snorted. “They were,” I said, laughing. “At least I learned a lot of words.”  
“I’m sure,” he said, shaking his head.  
“Why are you here, anyway?” I said, changing the subject.  
He shrugged. “I thought you could use some support. Besides, I’ve been meaning to take this class for a while.”  
“Why haven’t you before?” I asked.  
“It’s always busy at the Health Center. One emergency, then another. I haven’t had time for a proper class in years. I did sit in a few lectures of this class one year. Kendara teased me about it, said I was too lazy to learn how to swim.”  
Another water reference. It didn’t surprise me. By now Kendara had finished setting up the projector the way she wanted. She paced back and forth across the wooden platform, making a series of loud croaks and chirps that seemed to be a language. Kaladi, maybe? Mal never spoke it even to me. The sounds echoed off the walls, but not unpleasantly. The acoustics in Filly are incredible. A person on the podium can be heard plainly from the farthest corner of the balcony, even without an amplifier.  
When Kendara finished, she planted her feet in the center of the platform. At that moment, the door flew open and a tall silvery Halim ran in. To my amazement, she ran for the stairs and climbed up into the highest balcony. I couldn’t believe it. Did she not want to be in this class?  
Ki’Mat and I couldn’t see her, but Kendara did. She looked up and dropped her jaw. “Greetings, ‘Ra,” she said. “Would you mind joining us down here, please? A small class should stay together.”  
A sulky thumping from the balcony followed her words. The tall Halim slid into a couch on the back row. Her slumped posture and glittering blue eyes told me she’d rather be anywhere than here. Then I recognized her. “It’s ‘Ra Talli!” I whispered to Ki’Mat, and snickered. He did too. It was just so strange. What on Thetis was she doing here? Even from the back row, I could see her twitching. When she saw me, she straightened up and held her head high.  
“Now that you’re all settled, we’ll begin,” said Kaladi. She started the projector. It featured several basic slides of the ocean, and some native fish species. “There’s a famous story Kaladis often tell. One fish says to another, ‘You won’t believe where I’ve been! I jumped out of the water, and there were all these strange animals, and the tallest plants! It was amazing!’ And the other fish looks at him and simply says, ‘What is water?’”  
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Ki’Mat looked confused, but Kendara nodded and grinned in her usual way. “It is strange, isn’t it? People rarely question the beliefs of the culture they live in. They simply swim through life as a fish swims through water. And that’s what we’re here to learn today. In this class, you will explore not only the language of Kaladis, but their cultural mindset as well.  
“Kaladis, as you know, are the only sentient life-form native to Thetis. Our ancestors include ocean-dwelling and tree-dwelling species. Here is a diagram of the Kaladi family tree…”  
As the lecture continued, I found myself looking back to ‘Ra Talli. She wasn’t twitching anymore, but her tail lashed frequently, and her eyes flickered. Why was she here, if it made her so angry? I wondered if she were here because of Mal. Was that so far-fetched? Did ‘Ra Talli really care about her, want to help her?  
If so she had a funny way of showing it.  
“…and that’s all I have for today,” Kendara concluded. “Tomorrow, we will learn some basic Kaladi words and Kaladi proper names. Before you leave, collect a language tape to practice on your own.”  
‘Ra Talli caught Ki’Mat and I just as we left the building. With one hand on each of our shoulders, she guided us around to the alley behind it. Though her grip wasn’t particularly hard, it was strong. Her talons bit into my shoulder like fire.  
Kendara’s tattered shack loomed in front of us. ‘Ra Talli loosened her grip on my arm as she turned her full attention to Ki’Mat, swiveling her head to look him straight in the eye. With one delicate claw, she traced the outline of his chin. “What is your name, boy? Why are you on campus?”  
“Ki’Mat, ‘Ra. I work in the Med. Center, as a technician.” Even in his fear, he carried a hint of pride.  
‘Ra Talli shook her head. “The things they let men do these days. At least you’re married. If you were to stop working, your wife could provide for you.” She spoke in High Halim, but the tone sounded mocking. Ki’Mat gulped. ‘Ra Talli leaned closer, as if to whisper in his ear. “You’re lucky. I wouldn’t let a tasty treat like you out of my sight.” Ki’Mat flushed, the skin on his face matched his eyes. She let him go. He slumped against the wall, breathing hard and gazing up at her in terror. She laughed softly. “You may go,” she said in Middle Halim. Ki’Mat glanced at me, then back to ‘Ra Talli, looking unsure. “Just go,” I said, “I’ll be fine.” He left in a flat-out sprint, leaping over the creek like a hunted antelope. ‘Ra Talli turned to me, and tightened her grip on my arm. She still looked smug over her humiliation of Ki’Mat, and a surge of cold fury spread through me. “I took your advice, ‘Ra,” I said precisely, probing the depths of one blue eye. “I’ve been learning High Halim. I heard every word.”  
The smug look slid off her face in a millisecond. 

“What’s going on?” asked a voice. ‘Ra Talli spun around as if she’d been struck. I turned as well. Kendara stood there in the alley. She was carrying a basket of reeds packed with tools from the class. “I was just going home. I didn’t know you two were still here.”  
“We were…” stammered ‘Ra Talli, “We were…”  
“We were admiring your lovely house,” I finished. “I told ‘Ra Talli about it, and she wanted to see it for herself.”  
“Really?” said Kendara, with interest. “Is this true, ‘Ra?”  
‘Ra Talli glanced at me. I shrugged and pointed to the house. Her lip curled slightly, but Kendara didn’t see it. ‘Ra Talli recovered her composure quickly. “It’s a marvel. Truly one of a kind.”  
“I’m glad to see you so interested, ‘Ra. I would never have expected it.” Her eye stalks gestured to the door. “Please feel free to take a tour.”  
‘Ra Talli and I exchanged a glance. She stiffly nodded her head to Kendara. “It would be my pleasure.” She nearly choked on the words.  
“Excellent,” said Kendara. “Follow me.” And without another word, the two disappeared into Kendara’s house. I heard a howl as ‘Ra Talli’s head bumped the ceiling. I chuckled.


	6. Chapter 6

“Today we will study Kaladi proper names.” Kendara began the following day. Ki’Mat and I sat in the same place, but ‘Ra Talli sat three rows behind us. Still far away, but closer. I tried not to look at her. Earlier that morning I’d told Ki’Mat what happened, and he said he had received a similar threat, but more subtle.   
“It was a note on my desk saying, ‘You have made yourself so much at home in this office. It will be a tragedy if you have to leave unexpectedly.’ It wasn’t signed, of course.” Ki’Mat snorted. “Like anyone else would leave a note like that.” He grimaced. Both of us agreed to talk to her as little as possible.  
With the projector Kendara showed three words in a strange-looking writing, similar to scratch marks on wood, but with some rudely cut pictures. “This is Kaladi runescript. Here’s what it says in Middle Halim.” More familiar words appeared below them. THAYNALI KENDARA U-ALIN. “Thaynali Kendara U-Alin. This is my full name. No Kaladi would ever expose their name so plainly, but I feel it’s important in order to talk about our culture. This pattern of three names is familiar to humans, and to Halim, but Kaladi do not use it the same way you do.” The last two words disappeared, leaving the first one. “This one is the Parent Name. It’s the name your parents give you when you are first hatched, and it is the least important. It’s the name Kaladis go by when their clan is not present.” The word “Theynali” enlarged until it filled the podium. “As you undoubtedly know, ‘Theynali’ is not a Kaladi word at all, but the Halim word for ‘Swimmer’. And so I am.” She dropped her jaw in her characteristic grin. “My adoptive family called me that, for they had never seen one of my kind before. They were right. We are all Swimmers.”   
She clicked a button, and the second word appeared. “The next name is the Clan Name. This is the one the clan gives you at one year old, when you and your parents return to the clan. The name is only used within the clan, never to outsiders. Of course,” Kendara reached out to the class, “to me, you are all part of my clan.”  
“What does your name mean?” I asked.  
“’Kendara’ means ‘One Who Was Thought Dead.” Her eye stalks regarded me. “Not what you expected? When I was very small, less than a year old, my parents and others like them were attacked by wild animals and killed. Every one, except me.” She held a fist over her chest.  
“How did you survive?” asked Ki’Mat.  
“I ran away.” Moisture leaked from Kendara’s eyes. “I hid. Not long after, a party of Halim and human found me. They took me in.” She dipped her head once. “I’m grateful to them.”  
She clicked another button, producing the last word. “This is the Person Name. This name is extremely special to a Kaladi. This is the identity we choose for ourselves. We give this name at the Gathering, during a ceremony when we turn five years old. That’s when a Kaladi is considered no longer a child, but a teenager, and ready to take on more adult responsibilities.” She nodded first to ‘Ra Talli, then to Ki’Mat. “Yes, at five years old. I know you find that hard to believe, since most Halim live over two hundred years. But my people live only thirty, if we’re lucky.” She looked at me. “Even to humans, every one of our years is equivalent to two of yours. I’ll cover this in more detail tomorrow.” She turned back to the hologram. “Every child, when they come of age, will shout her or his chosen name to the crowd, and they in turn will shout it back. Then the name is never spoken aloud again. But it is not forgotten, not by those who have heard it. Knowing someone’s name gives them power over you, we say.” She cast her eyes over the lecture hall, settling on ‘Ra Talli. “This is why we say that the oldest people have the most power, for they know names, but there are few alive who know theirs.”

“My name is,” and she dropped her voice to a whisper, “U-Alin.” She shrugged. “I am still Kaladi. I’m not used to hearing it aloud. It means All-Clan. I chose it because I do not belong to any one clan but to all. Even all Halim and human clans, and beyond. The whole universe is my clan.”  
“But I must warn you,” said Kendara, “Those meanings are only a few of the depths of meaning Kaladi words have. All-Clan, yes, my name means that. But also Crosser of Waters, the Boundary between Earth and Sky, Tree that Stands in Water, the World’s Vast Ocean. One word can mean all of this, and far more. Each word is infinitely unique.” She paused, appearing to think about the vast number of meanings.  
“That’s enough for today,” she said, abruptly breaking the silence. Tomorrow we will cover more of the Kaladi Clan.”  
Today ‘Ra Talli left first, for which I was grateful. As I packed up my things, I asked Ki’Mat, “What do you suppose Mal’s name means?”  
“I don’t know,” said Ki’Mat. “Maybe, if we brought it in, Kendara could explain it.”  
“It’s worth a try,” I said, without much enthusiasm. Something bothered me. It was the last name being the most personal, the name you choose. Of course, the Medical Center didn’t know that. All names are filed by last name, including Kaladi ones. And I couldn’t help remembering I had encountered Mal’s file by accident, in the K’s. Malakardi’s Personal Name was Kendirratan. Did Malakardi name herself after Kendara, or did she choose for its meaning? Who would choose the name One Who Was Thought Dead? And why? I had to know. If I was to help Mal at all, I needed answers.


End file.
